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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233948">And if you say the word (I could stay with you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsJackofAllFandoms/pseuds/MsJackofAllFandoms'>MsJackofAllFandoms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age related disability, Brian May/Roger Taylor Fluff, Chronic Pain, Disabled Character, Established Relationship, Failed attempt at cuddling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mother Hen Brian May, Painkillers, Rated for swearing, Sad, Stubburn Roger Taylor, old!Maylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:56:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233948</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsJackofAllFandoms/pseuds/MsJackofAllFandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger's having a bad day in bed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brian May/Roger Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Brian gently opened the door and closed it as quietly as he could behind him as he took in the sight of the pitiful lump on the bed that was his husband. Said husband was lying facing away from the door, two pillows were under his head, another pillow was being hugged and he had no doubt there was a fourth between the man’s legs to support the lumbar alignment. But he wasn’t going to mention that, not after the dramtics it caused last time...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got in bed beside the other man and gently put his arm around his middle. Immediately he got shrugged off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Noooo, fuck off, Brian” Roger whined, and shuffled a bit to put some distance between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, don’t be like that.” Brian said, but didn’t move to put his arm back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roger turned his head from where it was hidden in the pillow, “Just let me die in peace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not dying, Roger, you’re just old and having a bad day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No difference to me.” Roger mumbled, as he pressed his face back into his pillow.  Brian felt like cold water had been thrown over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop it. You know saying things like that upset me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moments passed, then Roger groaned, before shuffling around a bit to find a good position again. Evidently he found it, because his face relaxed a smidgen and he opened his eyes. “Sorry, Bri. I know.” He brought his hand out from underneath the duvet to pat at the nearest part of Brian he could reach without moving too much - his chest - before sliding it back in to the cocoon. “I do want you to just leave me alone though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The idea broke Brian’s heart, “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roger turned his head away, “Don’t make me say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brian didn’t move, either to get back out the bed or to get close again. “I think you’ll feel worse if I left you alone.” What Brian meant was, he’d feel worse if he left Roger alone. Seeing someone he loved so dearly in so much pain was bad, but being away from him and imagining it getting worse was, well, worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it was clear Roger wasn’t going to reply, Brian continued. “Will you at least use the heat pad like the Rheumatologist recommended?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roger huffed a loud, harsh breath through his nose, “Fuck the rhumatologist and fuck the heat pad”. And with that he turned further into the pillow and hid his face again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Brian said, defeated. He gently rubbed at Roger’s arm underneath the duvet but was once again shrugged off, “Alright I’m going. Though I wish you’d let me stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He heaved a sigh as he stood up, his knees creaked at the action but it wasn’t painful. Then he was once again looking down at the sad looking lump on his bed that was his husband.  “We’re</span>
  <em>
    <span> both</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting old, you do know that, don’t you? And you could be 101, fat and bald and unable to tie your own shoe laces, and I still wouldn’t love you any less for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet again, no response. Sighing again, Brian went to the door and, like he had when he came in, gently opened it so as not to disturb his husband. “Shout me if you need anything, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got a hum in response and figured that would have to do, but he didn’t close the door after himself as he left the room, he only closed it over and left a gap. Just incase Roger did call for him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This takes place on the same day as the first chapter, but later that night.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I didn't plan on writing a 2nd chapter, it just happened. </p><p>Thank you to @Theprincessed for cheering me on and giving this a once over, even though we're in different fandoms &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/187571623@N06/49688137561/in/dateposted-public/">  </a>
</p><p> </p><p>Brian knocked on the door before he opened it, just incase. “Roger?”</p><p> </p><p>The lump of duvet and pillows had shifted somewhat in the few hours away, and Roger was facing the door this time, and Brian could actually see his face. It was a good sign of improvement, but only just. His pinched facial features and slightly shallowed breathing still spoke the loudest. </p><p>“Hey.” his husband said in greeting. </p><p>“Hey to you too. I’ve got your tablets here, and a glass of water to take them with.”</p><p>He walked over with the aforementioned items and held them out for Roger to take, after Roger got into a better position to take them from him. Roger shuffled around a bit, took the glass out of Brian’s hand and put it on his bedside table and then held out his hand for Brian to press out two of his tablets from the blister packs. </p><p>“Thanks. Are you getting in?”</p><p>“Of course, i’ve just got to get changed, first.” Brian went to the desk where his pyjamas from the night before were set on and started undressing. “Do you, erm, need any help, moving around?” </p><p>He meant getting up to get to the bathroom. It was a surprisingly delicate topic now, given Roger used to pee with the door wide open to continue a conversation with Freddie unhindered. </p><p>“No”.</p><p>“Alright”</p><p>Brian changed without much fuss, and put his clothes on the desk where his pyjamas had been, then came back over to the bed. He noticed Roger still had the tablets in the palm of his hand, and then realised why. “Can you sit up a bit more, love?”</p><p>“Will you get in first?”</p><p>“Of course,” He pulled the duvet away from the bed so he could slide in with ease, trying his best not to jostle the bed much. Roger immediately turned in to him. </p><p>“I’m sorry about earlier.”</p><p>Brian waved him off, “Oh it’s alright. You just don’t like being seen when you’re in pain. Here, sit up a bit.” He fed his arm between Roger’s back and the pillow to help him sit up.</p><p>“It’s no excuse.”</p><p>“It’s not the first time you’ve told me to fuck off and leave you alone, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”</p><p>Roger shook his head, “That’s different. That’s usually in the studio or something.”</p><p>Brian could tell the other man was starting to get distressed over it, so he changed tactics, “Look if it’ll make you feel any better, i’ll tell you to fuck off tomorrow and then we’ll be even. How’s that?”</p><p><br/>Roger huffed out a laugh through his nose, and then grimaced, bringing his right hand to one of the problem areas of his back. “Oh, don’t make me laugh.”</p><p>Brian held him in place so he could take the tablets, then waited for the glass to be put back on to the bedside table.</p><p><br/>“C’mon, love, lie down and get comfortable again. The tablets will kick in soon.”</p><p><br/>“I know.” Roger’s voice was soft, but still with emotion. His husband was <em> tired. </em> <br/><br/></p><p>Once Roger was nestled back up into his cocoon of pillows and covers as painlessly as possible, Brian did his best to find a good position for both of them that didn’t hurt Roger, nor would it lead to Brian hurting in the morning. It could be tricky, with his long awkward limbs and Roger’s back in spasm. “Is this okay?” he whispered. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yeah,” Roger whispered back.</p><p>“You sure?”<br/><br/>“Yes, Brian, I’m sure.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>He gently rubbed Roger’s arm, hoping to help ease some of the pain and lull him to sleep. </p><p>Brian must have dosed off, because suddenly he was aware that Roger had moved without him noticing, and it was definitely darker outside than it was when he came up to bed. The next thing he was aware of was a warm damp patch on his pyjama clad shoulder and Roger pressing his face into him, whimpering. </p><p>“Hey,” he said quietly, “What’s this? Has the pain got worse?”</p><p>Roger shook his head, and pressed his face in further. “No,” he said, though it was somewhat muffled, “It’s just the tablets.”</p><p>Brian patted the man’s head, the way he normally did to show affection, “Okay.”</p><p>“It is,” Roger insisted. </p><p>“And I believe you.” He replied, as gently as he could, even though he wasn’t sure whether he believed him or not. The room was quiet save for Roger’s harsh breathing and the ticking of the clock on the bedside, which Brian couldn’t turn to look at without disturbing Roger. He kept up a steady rhythm of patting Roger’s head, and then sweeping his hand to the nape of his neck and back again. </p><p> </p><p>Roger eventually moved his head away from Brian’s shoulder and repositioned himself, with some difficulty and not without swearing, on to his back. He groaned as his back settled into the position, and Brian could still see tears forming in the corners of his closed eyes..</p><p>“Do you want to try the tens machine again?”</p><p>Roger snorted, “No. that thing is fucking weird.”</p><p>“The physio said it just takes some getting used to.”</p><p>“Well then<em> she</em> can get used to it then. Fuck.” The petulant tone was a relief for Brian to hear. The harsh breathing that started up again shortly afterwards was not.</p><p>“What can I do to help?”</p><p>“Make me thirty years younger before all this shit started.”</p><p>“I would if I could, Roger.” Brian shuffled closer, in the hopes that offering the physical comfort has to be better than useless platitudes, especially when there’s a change Roger will get more upset at being treated so gently. Then he heard something that broke his heart. Roger’s breath hitched in, ever so quietly. “Oh Roger.” he got as close as he could risk without hurting him and whispered comforting nonsense at him,not knowing what else he could do. “This is just a bad flare up and you’ll be better soon. You always are.” </p><p>Roger’s breathing calmed down, and Roger once again shuffled around, pulling pillows this way and that until he was facing Brian once again. “I am so sorry I told you to fuck off earlier.” </p><p>“We’ve been over this, love, it’s okay.”</p><p>Roger wiped at his eyes with his right hand, then wiped his hand on the duvet. “”This really is just the tramadol.” </p><p>“I know,” Brian said placatingly, “But it would be okay if it wasn’t.”</p><p>“It <em> is </em>.” And Brian still wasn’t really sure whether to believe him, but the slow release tablets must have been kicking in by this point. Roger’s breathing was more normal, he was less stiff on the bed and his eyes were drooping closed. </p><p>“I know.” Brian took hold of Roger’s hand in his,  “Look, we don’t have any work right now, we’ve got nowhere we need to be for a few weeks, so you just try and rest as much as you can, okay?”</p><p>Roger nodded against him. “I love you.”</p><p>He gave Roger a quick peck on his head, through his thick but short hair. “I love you too.” </p><p> </p><p>He eventually, finally, felt Roger fall asleep against him, and followed suit not soon after.</p>
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